A Night in a Tree
by AvatarofEris
Summary: The sheriff of Nottingham and Guy of Guisborne are trapped in a watchtower by the Night Watchman


Disclaimer: I do not own _Robin Hood_, any of the characters therein, etc. I also know that Allan's little ditty is highly anachronistic, but in the original, he was a bard and thus was supposed to make up such things.

Many thanks to authors Glorious Clio and Matriaya for introducing me to _Robin Hood_, encouraging me to write this piece, and beta reading it for me.

A soft breeze whispered along the road through Locksley and past the palisade tower where the sheriff stood beside Guy of Gisbourne, looking out over the village. The full moon cast scattered pools of light interspersed with areas of shadow from the thick, wooly clouds that scudded across the sky. It was a warm night, strange for this time of year. Despite the comfortable temperature, Vaisey found himself unable to keep still. He shuffled his feet, fidgeting with his gloves. He took them off, flapping them against his leg, shuffled his feet again, then put them back on. Then the process began again. It was driving Guy absolutely, mind-bogglingly mad. He heard the sheriff's feet shuffle again and closed his eyes, gritting his teeth to stop himself saying something insubordinate.

There was a decisive dearth of people to order around or smack about, which was really what was putting Vaisey on edge. But wait… there was Guy! Now, how to begin? Yes, that ought to do. "You do recall what we're here for, right?" he said.

"We are attempting to catch the Night Watchman, sir," Guy replied with a sigh, steeling himself for the abuse the sheriff was about to heap on him.

Vaisey sighed with exasperation. Clearly Gisbourne did not want to play.How to turn this to his advantage? Ah, yes. "A clue: no," he said, wagging his finger under Guy's nose. "What we are here for is to gauge the nocturnal activities of the Night Watchman in order to set a perfect trap, Gisbourne. If we were to simply arrest the Night Watchman, the serfs would be up in arms and we'd have to waste valuable time killing them all and then there'd be no one to give us food. THINK, Gisbourne! Honestly…" he snarled.

Knowing full well that there was no way to win thisargument, Guy merely took a deep breath and turned his gaze back to the buildings, scanning for any activity. Placated somewhat by his reassurance of his true penchant for evil… or at least annoying not-niceness, the sheriff allowed his body to slow itself to around half its normal rate of perpetual motion. His eyes roved over the landscape, taking everything in, but never lingering on any one spot for more than a moment.

"Sir! Movement, by the rose seller's home!" Guy said a little louder than he had to. He was pointing dramatically at the home of the local flower vendor and staring ahead with an intensity that set his features in a very… becoming fashion, actually. Already in a good mood from having insulted him, Vaisey allowed the thought to remain. After all, Gisbourne always did take the abuse so wonderfully – the exasperation showed so well in his eyes without reaching the rest of his face. It made Vaisey happy in a way that no other abused underling's pain did. For now, however, he did have to set those ideas aside for later, preferably when he was alone in bed. He too looked at the house, seeing motion in the shadows.

While they had been engaged in this conversation, the Night Watchman had actually been creeping past the watchtower under cover of cloud shadow while their backs were turned. Marian stopped underneath the palisade tower, listening intently. This was… unexpected. If the sheriff and Gisbourne both were in the tower, this was a chance for mischief the likes of which would not appear again. She paused for a moment, her eyes moving slowly to the ladder and up to the tower floor where it was not at all secured… She shook her head and began to creep away. It was far too immature. Then she stopped, turned, and quietly pulled the ladder away from the tower. The hay in the bales used to steady the ladder rustled, and she froze. Fortunately, Gisbourne and the sheriff were having a heated debate as to whether or not Gisbourne had actually seen a person moving or if it had been merely a wisp of cloud shadow. Marian began to breathe again. Hurriedly, she shifted the ladder into horizontal position and crept off with it across the fields as fast as she could go.

"Honestly, Gisbourne, could anyone be more inept!" the sheriff shouted, turning angrily away and freezing as he noticed a remarkable lack of ladders at the tower entrance. "GISBOURNE!" he shouted as though this were all his fault.

"What, sir?" Guy replied, wondering what more he could possibly have done to incur the sheriff's wrath.

"THE LADDER'S GONE, YOU FOOL!" was the reply. Vaisey hurriedly stepped to the edge and looked down. The ladder was _gone_. He felt Guy hurry over and lean down, looking over his shoulder. He twisted his neck as far around as it would go, pleased when he managed to catch Guy's completely flabbergasted expression. Gisbourne's jaw was hanging slightly slack and his lips formed a perfect 'o' of surprise. His pale blue eyes were opened far wider than they should decently have been.

Words passed through Guy's mind as swift as the wind, but that wind always died before the words had managed to make their way to his lips. He turned his head to look at the sheriff… and found himself practically brushing noses with him. Startled, he froze for a moment before drawing back and straightening up. The sheriff straightened up too, much to Guy's discomfort, but fortunately the sheriff was a full head shorter than he, and could not maintain his nasal proximity. Nevertheless, he was doing his best to stay right in Guy's face, even going up on tiptoe to gain a little height. Still completely disconcerted by how close the sheriff insisted on being, he finally settled on, "So it would seem, My Lord Sheriff." He was impressed at himself. He'd managed to keep the quaver out of his voice. He was always sure that his speech would come out shaky when the sheriff insisted on being this close.

Vaisey was half tempted to slap Gisbourne across the face, but the desire to scream incessantly was also very strong, and he figured that if he could just get that out of the way the slapping could follow in rapid succession and perfect continuation. The lack of exit from this tower made him feel utterly ridiculous. This made it harder to think straight, which was something else he particularly didn't enjoy. The only cure was to heap abuse on someone, and the only someone up in the tower was Guy. "Well? What do you intend to DO ABOUT IT!" he shouted, emphasizing his rage at this last with a little hop. Gisbourne's eyes widened pleasantly as the hop brought their faces closer together.

"I… I…" Gisbourne was now at a complete loss, and realized that he had opened himself up to further torment through this.

"I… I…" the sheriff mimicked sarcastically. "Yes, you. I know it's you. It looks like you," he snarled, he leaned forward and sniffed, "it smells like you," he continued, prodding Gisbourne in the chest, "it even feels like you, Gisbourne. That still doesn't answer my question!"

"I don't know where it went!" he exclaimed, getting incredibly flustered by this last invasion of personal space. The sheriff was frequently too close for comfort when telling Guy off, but smelling him? Where in the world did that come from? Actually, Guy knew full well where it came from. It stemmed from the same black depths of the sheriff's mind that all of his nefarious plans did. It was the reason Gisbourne worked for him, really. After all, those plans were a fast track to power and the only person who came remotely close to the sheriff's level of diabolical brilliance was Robin of Locksley, who somehow managed to weasel his way successfully out of the sheriff's traps nine times out of ten.

"Oh la dee da dee da…" Vaisey replied. "Somehow, Gisbourne, I know that this is your fault, and therefore if you want to get back in my favor, you'd better do some heavy kissing up, starting now."

Gisbourne stared at him with that wonderful expression of shock playing across his features once more. It was only marred by his insistence on opening and closing his mouth in the attempt to find a response. He couldn't do so.

Vaisey smiled evilly. "Come on Gisbourne," he said, pointing to his cheek. "Kiss up."

Gisbourne stared at him in complete and utter disbelief. "You want me to what, sir?" he managed to say. His voice decided to crack at that moment, making his cheeks flush crimson. The sheriff declined to comment on this, knocking Gisbourne even more off balance. Finally, the only thing he could possibly think to do was obey, and thus he leaned down and placed a quick kiss on the sheriff's cheek. He stepped back quickly, not daring to look at the sheriff's face. Instead, he took an apparently deep interest in the wood slats that made up the tower floor.

Vaisey put his hands on his hips, tapping his toe impatiently on the floor. "Come now, Gisbourne. Thanks to your lack of attention, I now have to spend the night in this abominable watchtower without so much as even a good view to console me. If you want to get back in my good graces, you'll have to do better than that." Had a demon from the deepest, cruelest pits of hell seen the smile upon Vaisey's face, it would have fallen to its knees and begged to become the sheriff's apprentice. Gisbourne raised his eyes and saw with utmost horror the expression on the Sheriff's face…

Warm sunshine splashed through the leaves of Sherwood Forrest and across the face of Robin of Locksley as he stood under a tree waiting for the rest of the group to catch up. They were on their way to the village of Locksley for the weekly wealth distribution**,** otherwise known as giving the ill-gotten gains they had removed from the carriages of the rich to the starving villagers. It was a good setup, really. He heard the rest of the gang coming up behind him. Much was currently engaged in a verbal sparring match with Allan-A-Dale while John occasionally sprinkled the conversation with his own distaste for the racket they were making. Behind them, Will and Djaq walked side by side, speaking in low tones so that Robin couldn't make out the subject matter. He hailed them as they drew nearer, and they drew to a halt by him to see why he'd stopped. Allan was looking off into the scenery and presently let out with "I'm not being funny, but there's a ladder leaning against that tree…"

The rest of the gang followed his gaze and soon they were standing in a semicircle around this strange sight. Much, who seemed to be on a never-ending quest for food began to question why it had to be a ladder rather than a wheel of cheese or perhaps a leg of lamb. John was staring at him incredulously. Will stepped forward to examine it more closely. "This is one of my father's!" he said, gazing at it in total incomprehension.

"What would one of your father's ladders be doing here?" Djaq asked, stepping in a little closer and standing on tiptoe to see over Will's shoulder.

"I've no idea," he replied, "but there doesn't seem to be anyone around, and it's not as though it's being put to any use here…" he trailed off.

John gazed suspiciously around. "This, I do not like," he said.

Robin stared at the ladder. It was strange. As Will said, it could not be put to any use here, but at the same time John also had a point about the suspicious circumstances surrounding its situation. Still, they had business to be done. "Right lads," he said, "While there is, in fact, a most curious ladder leaning against a tree, we have business to attend to in Locksley…"

"It's not curious!" exclaimed Will, cutting him off. "It's a perfectly good piece of craftsmanship, not a thing wrong with it! How dare you call my father's handiwork curious!"

This remark was met with silence, although Djaq was trying very hard to stifle her snickers. Finally Allan spoke up. "I think what he means is that the ladder's being here is curious, not that it was oddly made."

"… Oh," said Will, looking slightly embarrassed. Robin couldn't help but grin.

"Strange," said Much, looking at Will. "In any other situation, that would have been my comment."

This started a fresh round of insults tossed between him and Allan, and the gang set off again. John walked beside Robin, still suspiciously watching the woods around them. Allan and Much followed, with Will and Djaq bringing up the rear and falling into their conversation again. Soon they had come out of the forest and were moving down the road to Locksley. Some distance away from the first palisade watchtower, they heard a very recognizable voice ranting at top volume. Glancing at each other, they moved closer to the watchtower. Soon, they could make out the sheriff's actual words.

"… and then it's gone and we're stuck up here all night! I couldn't paint my toenails, I couldn't sleep in my bed, and to top it all off, there was nothing whatsoever of interest to look at because the view from this tower is terrible!"

The gang stopped underneath the watchtower to look up at Gisbourne, who was backed up against the tower wall as the sheriff yelled at him. It was at that moment that the sheriff caught sight of them. "Oh no," he said, turning away. He wanted very badly to punch something, but he didn't dare let his composure slip before Robin of Locksley.

The gang stood silent for a moment. "Well, that explains the ladder, then" Much said, looking around at the others, who nodded in agreement. "It doesn't explain how it got there, mind you, or why it wasn't a nice side of pork, but, OW!" he stopped short as John prodded him with his staff.

They gazed on in silence for a while again until the sheriff turned and said to them "Was this all the business of today, then? To watch Gisbourne and I go about our business?"

"Oh no," replied Robin, "It's just that this is such an amusing distraction from what we were actually doing."

This was met with snickers. Allan then began giggling incessantly.

"What's so funny?" Gisbourne demanded.

"Sheriff and Gisbourne, sitting in a tree, S-N-O-G-G…"

"SHUT UP!" Gisbourne shouted while the group broke down laughing.

"Come on, you lot," Robin said. He led the gang off down the road, still laughing as they went. There were tears in their eyes.

Gisbourne sat down and slumped against the tower wall next to the entry opening. Brooding, he stared off over the countryside while Vaisey paced back and forth a couple of times, finally stopping when Robin and his companions were out of sight. He looked at his fellow tower occupant and heaved the great sigh of the put-upon.

"What is it now, Gisbourne?" he snarled.

"You actually made me kiss you, sir," he replied.

"Oh grow a backbone, Gisbourne," he snarled, placing his boot upon the other man's shoulder and pushing. With a yelp, Gisbourne fell from the tower. Fortunately for him, he landed on the straw bales at the base. He looked up in shock, and the sheriff was quite pleased to see that expression on his face again as he leaned out over the edge. Gisbourne tried to find words, but they all failed him. "Oh, don't be such a baby, Gisbourne, and go fetch the ladder like a good little boy. We know that Locksley and his lot found it, it must be in the woods somewhere." With that, Vaisey stood up and turned to the other side of the tower. He watched out of the corner of his eye as Gisbourne got up and walked off, rubbing his bottom as he did so. Vaisey raised an eyebrow. Perhaps the view from the tower wasn't so bad after all…


End file.
